


Blizzard Entertainment

by CardiacCrisis



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous amounts of fluff, M/M, Really Bad Puns, The least cabin fic cabin fic, also smut!, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardiacCrisis/pseuds/CardiacCrisis
Summary: Bakura has had enough of the desert to last him several more lifetimes, and so Malik decides that a change of pace is in order.(Post-canon established-relationship Thiefship!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sitabethel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/gifts).



> The original prompt was "Trapped in a cabin during a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere without cell signal, but hey, check out this fireplace."
> 
> However, I must have rolled about 20 critical fumbles in a row, because I worked on this fic for over 2.5 months before realizing that I had completely misunderstood/misremembered the prompt. What I had actually been working with was "cabin, snowstorm, fireplace", and this is what I came up with.
> 
> A big thank you to @AbbeyWan for encouragement and beta-ing!

The desert sun battered at the crown of Bakura's head with such ferocity that Bakura almost wished he was back at Battle City purely so he could give Ra a piece of his mind. It was only Malik's warm, sweaty hand in his that kept Bakura from digging himself into the sand like a lizard to try escaping the heat.

“We're almost done here, Bakura. We just need to finish emptying one more storage room, and then we can get back to sweet, sweet air conditioning- once the Jeeps warm up, of course.”

“Why do they need to warm up? They're already roasting out here like the rest of us.”

“Fuck. Don't remind me- I almost regret wearing my gold in this heat, and I am _not_ looking forward to putting my seatbelt on.”

“Well, _I_ am! A little third degree burn is well worth it to get the fuck out of here.”

“Hmm, I can't argue with that. I had hoped that I'd never have to come back here after the Pharaoh’s sending.”

“I don't _ever_ want to be in a desert again. Three thousand years and the sand is still as coarse, still as irritating, and still gets everywhere-”

“Is that right, Anakin?” Malik grinned.

The thief ignored his interjection, shoving his sweaty bangs out of his pink-tinged face for the umpteenth time.

“You know where I want to be? Not here. In fact, let me be more precise- I want to be somewhere, anywhere, that is the polar opposite of _this_.” He gestured wildly at the barren landscape around them, broken up only by the silhouettes of workers sifting wearily through more sand.

There was a little upturn of Malik's lips, and Malik's eyes glittered despite his exhaustion.

“That does sound like the perfect place to be.”

* * *

Ra was returning to the the underworld to fight anew, and the dying fires of his solar barge lit up the clouds beneath them in rich purples and pinks and oranges.

Bakura had an inherent distrust of airplanes, which were neither lighter than air like balloon nor flapped their wings to obtain lift like a bird, but flying in the evenings still fascinated him. Seeing the sky wheel slowly into starlit, velvety darkness after such a fantastical display of colors always set his mind at peace for a little while.

Malik wasn't paying any attention to their window though- he was combing through Bakura's soft hair with his fingers in his usual careful and affectionate way. Shortly after his return to the mortal plane, the thief had trimmed his mane to his shoulders. As much as Malik had appreciated the aesthetic of Ryou’s waist-length hair, Bakura’s hair was now heaven to run his fingers through.

Bakura let his steel grey eyes slip shut, savoring the moment. “Mmm… not that I'm complaining, but was it really necessary to hire a fancy private jet to get us out of Egypt?”

Soft lips alighted onto his cheek, and Bakura turned his face so they could share a few kisses. It was decadent, nestling in a leather loveseat under a wool and cashmere blanket, kissing the love of his lives by the light of the setting sun, as they flew through the sky towards their destination.

Malik pulled away only slightly, brushing his nose playfully against Bakura's.

“Of course it wasn't. There's not much that's _really_ necessary. But it's worth it to me- not having to deal with hours of bullshit at the airport to get shoved into a crappy little seat with the rest of the sardines.”

Bakura laughed, tracing his thumbs along Malik's cheekbones. “As pretentious as always. Honestly I'm a little surprised that you haven't made yourself a gold-plated jet to see if you can exceed Kaiba's dragon plane in terms of excessiveness.”

Malik leaned into Bakura's touch, then rolled his eyes. “I may have been running a crime ring, but it was an _underground_ crime ring and we wanted to keep it that way– stop grinning, you dork, that wasn't a pun.”

Bakura snickered unapologetically, and Malik kissed his nose before continuing, “It's normal for executives to have fancy cars and bikes and yachts, and even private planes. It's _not_ normal to have a plane with a tacky paint job, and especially not with weird modifications on it. And there's no way to hide a giant, flying eyesore, even if you only flew it at night. People talk, and that kind of stunt would be enough to set a whole army of reporters on your ass.”

Malik snorted. “Also, there's just no beating Kaiba when it comes to being excessive.”

Bakura laughed, picturing Kaiba's reaction to an equally gaudy airplane over his city. “He'd probably take that as an invitation to build a Blue Eyes Ultimate Helicopter, or something equally ridiculous.”

He trailed a finger down the gold at Malik's throat, then smoothed his hand down Malik's chest. “I can't complain about how much more comfortable this is, though. Very nice. Very… _private._ ”

Malik's lips curled upwards at the silent suggestion, and he leaned forward to press several soft kisses onto Bakura's lips, sighing in delight. “Yes, and we can kiss as much as we want without anyone fussing.”

Just the thought of it made a pleasant shiver run down Bakura's spine. He traced his fingers up Malik's neck to cradle his cheek and guide him closer for more kisses, deeper ones. He licked his way into Malik's mouth and tilted his head, his soft moan of delight muffled by Malik's tongue. One of Malik's arms wrapped around Bakura's waist, hand kneading at Bakura's ass while Bakura combed through Malik's hair with his fingers. They kissed until they were both out of breath, lips a little swollen.

Bakura kissed the dimple at the corner of Malik's mouth, then kissed his way to Malik's ear, murmuring, “And we can join the mile-high club in _style,_  instead of doing a contortionist act in the bathroom.”

Malik hiccuped a laugh, pressing a kiss onto Bakura's jawline.

“Mmmm, we can… Though perhaps on our way back? I have some things planned for our arrival, and I think we'd both rather not be sweaty for it.”

Bakura hiked up a single eyebrow. “Hmmm. Come to think of it, you still haven't told me where it is that we're going.”

“That's because it's a surprise.” Malik tapped Bakura's nose with his finger and laughed at Bakura's immediate scrunchy face. He accepted Bakura's pout as an invitation to nibble on his lower lip until he smiled again.

“Mmmm… Malik, you know that if you keep kissing me that I'll have trouble keeping off your cock. I'm guessing you had something else planned for us to do during the flight?”

Malik snickered, nuzzling at Bakura's sensitive neck to tease him. “Oh, I know. But don't you worry, I have something planned that you'll like almost as much as sex.”

“You brought the Nintendo?”

“I brought the Nintendo.”

The Nintendo, as they called it, was a custom console gaming rig Malik had commissioned for one of Bakura's birthdays. Essentially a fancy emulator, it could faithfully reproduce all of Bakura's extensive library of games, glitches and all. It connected to several sets of handheld controllers, including a couple of fancy custom-made sets.

“Really, even though we were going to Egypt for a couple of days and coming right back?”

“Yeah. I noticed you hadn't packed it, and that it _just_ fit in my luggage when I took out the secondary jewelry box. I had the pilot set it up for us earlier.”

“Malik, I love you.”

Malik smiled, kissing his way up to Bakura's mouth and pressing soft, sweet kisses onto his lips until Bakura's eyes slid shut, his hands curled loosely around Malik's shirt and his face turned upwards like a flower turning towards the sun. Malik hugged Bakura a little closer, brushing their noses together affectionately. “I love you too.”

Bakura's eyes slowly blinked open and he nestled a little closer to Malik's side, cheeks a soft pink from the kisses and the confessions. “Mmm… How about Paper Mario?”

“Sounds good to me. We were on the pirate island, right?”

“Yeah. I think we’re close to the end of the chapter.”

Bakura's choice of game told Malik that he was feeling particularly lazy. Bakura confirmed the thought when he crawled onto Malik's lap and settled there comfortably, tucking his head under Malik's chin, pulling the blanket around them more securely, and laying back against Malik's chest. Malik took the opportunity to hug him closer and kiss the crown of his head, rejoicing in Bakura's quiet murmurs of delight.

Malik picked out his favorite set of custom controllers- ergonomic, translucent, and lavender- from the storage bin at his side, then slid his hands back around Bakura's waist, under the blankets. He loved the split control scheme because it allowed for this kind of comfort, and this version of Paper Mario was a GameCube game that didn't require motion control. It was also a single-player game, so Malik explored the overworld and interacted with NPCs while Bakura took over for battles, flawlessly timing his attacks and working the fictional audience into a frenzy of excitement.

Pirate’s Grotto was easy enough to traverse, and soon enough, Malik was boarding the ship at the heart of the island. The proximity to a save block, the empty room leading to a single door, and the dramatic warning made it clear that the boss was on the the other side of the door. Malik switched Mario’s partner to Goombella, then handed Bakura the controls, wrapping his arms comfortably around his waist.

“Thanks, Malik. Oh shit, look at all this treasure! I'm already pissed off that we probably won't get to keep it. Come _on,_ Mario, robbing a grave or two would do you some good!”

Malik laughed when the villain appeared, a giant animated skull with a scar slashed across an eye.

“Speaking of tomb-robbing, Cortez _does_ look a little like you, Bakura!”

“Of course not, he says right there that he doesn't moan, and that's definitely not true of me!”

Malik snickered, pressing a kiss onto Bakura's neck and laughing when he pretended to moan ecstatically.

“Hey look, Luigi came to watch you get your ass kicked!”

Bakura snorted at the idea of losing, then got started on the boss, which had revealed a long, skeletal body with four arms, a blade in each hand. It only took Bakura a couple of turns to destroy Cortez, but then the skull revived itself again.

Bakura gaped. “Holy shit, did he just eat half the audience?!”

“Hey, _Luigi was literally one seat away from death,_  oh my god-”

“Wait- wait, look, more people are showing up to fill the empty seats!”

“Seriously?! Everybody on that side of the audience got straight up murdered, but they'll still risk it? What the hell is wrong with these people?”

Bakura grinned, tilting his head to wiggle his eyebrows at Malik. “Obviously that means that I'm putting on a _killer show._ ”

Malik sighed. “Oh god damn it, I walked right into that one!”

“Just like you walked into my heart.”

Malik knocked his skull lightly against Bakura's, then pressed another soft kiss onto his neck. “Stop being so adorable and start beating this boss before he eats Luigi.”

“I can multitask! Oh hey, does this fucking turtle think he's going to get away with trying to sabotage me while I'm trying to kill the boss that just murdered like twenty of his buddies? Hell no!”

Malik laughed, watching as Bakura made quick work of the boss and triumphantly handed the controllers back to Malik. Predictably, Mario refused the roomful of treasure. Bakura groaned and Malik grinned.

“Honestly Bakura, I thought you had learned your lesson about cursed gold.”

“Yeah, well, this demon's way easier to handle than Zorc, so it would probably be worth it in this case.”

Malik rolled his eyes and kept moving through the plot. Bakura riffled through the backpack he had filled with snacks and essentials, and pulled out a stick of bison jerky for himself. He dug around a little more until he found a box with arabic writing on it.

“Do you want this nasty vegetarian chickpea thing you asked me to hold onto for you, Sunshine?”

Malik made a face at him. “Thanks for the highly appetizing description, sweetie. No thanks though, I’m not hungry yet and it’s almost dinnertime.”

Bakura shrugged and dropped the snack box into the backpack again, then took over for a second boss battle. He laughed his ass off at the thought of Malik using his Rare Hunters to attack as Lord Crump did in the games - forming a giant sphere of minions to bowl over Mario and making them stack up in pyramid formation as shields - but after the start of the new chapter, there was mostly dialogue, and Bakura started nodding off in Malik's lap.

Malik was pretty tired himself- he had forgotten how exhausting it was just to merely _exist_ in the desert. Since he had hit a save block only about a minute ago, he went ahead and turned off the Nintendo.

Bakura murmured something that sounded like it could have been a protest, but when Malik tilted his seat back, Bakura turned to straddle Malik's lap and settle sleepily against his chest. Malik chuckled, putting the controllers away and resettling the blanket over both of them. He wrapped his arms around his thief, holding him close, and Bakura yawned and nuzzled his way to the crook of Malik's neck, sighing peacefully.

Malik never fell asleep right away when he was with Bakura. At first, he hadn't been used to the feeling of someone else in bed with him. Even though Bakura had been a model bedmate, quiet and perfectly still, it always took Malik a while for sleep to catch up to him. And so, for lack of anything better to do, he would watch Bakura.

It had been a little eerie, watching Bakura sleep. Not only did Malik feel awkward, but Bakura would be deathly still. He'd never change position, or even shift in place, and the only sounds he'd produce was the soft whoosh of air entering and exiting his lungs. And occasionally it was terrifying, because even the slightest sound - a raindrop on the window, the ice maker at work, the air conditioning kicking on - would make Bakura's eyes blink wide open, grey irises almost matching the whites of his eyes in the semi-darkness.

The worst though, was when Bakura had a nightmare. He'd twitch in place, completely silent, sweat dampening his hair, his hands curled into fists so tight he'd wake himself up to angry red crescents on his palms. Luckily, the terrors didn't last long- he'd wake, eyes wildly searching the room as the rest of him lay rigid.

Each time Malik caught Bakura waking, he'd stretch out a hand and stroke along his arm, or his back, or his side- anywhere he could easily reach. And Bakura would startle slightly at his touch, then relax an infinitesimal amount and close his eyes again.

Over time though, Bakura was less and less easily awoken, his sleep a little deeper. When he did wake, his eyes would only open halfway, just enough to catch sight of Malik, and he'd relax again, even before Malik's touch arrived. He'd shuffle a little closer, pressing against Malik's hand with a soft sigh. He started curling up on cold nights and sprawling on hot ones, and sometimes he'd roll over and settle against Malik's side.

At this point, Malik was used to sleeping next to Bakura, but the thief had gotten so comfortable around him that he snored, and talked in his sleep, and occasionally picked up Malik's limbs to rearrange them for his comfort. Still, nothing in the world could make Malik want to switch back to the deathly still thief he had known, not when Bakura now felt so safe and comfortable in Malik's arms that he was able to overcome a lifetime habit of restless sleep and night terrors.

As if sensing his thoughts, Bakura murmured Malik's name, wrapping his arms around Malik's waist and tucking his head under Malik's chin with a pleased sigh. Malik laughed softly, then carefully turned them both onto their sides so that his scarred back wouldn't be pressed into the seat. This movement didn't seem to bother Bakura, and Malik kissed the top of his head, smiling at his whispered “love you”. It didn't take Malik very long to fall asleep after that.

* * *

Malik was catching up with the latest from the Geneva Motor Show on the TV screen with an arm around Bakura curled up against his side, when the pilot’s voice sounded from the pager.

“We are starting our descent shortly, gentlemen. Please prepare for landing.”

Bakura raised an eyebrow and looked up from his Kindle. “Did you specifically tell the pilot not to say _where_ we were landing?”

Malik grinned. “I wanted to tell you myself!”

“Well? Are you going to tell me now? Or should I start looking for signage?”

His grin only got wider. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you try looking out the window, then?”

Bakura did, only to be faced with nothing but white. “What the fuck?”

Malik laughed, giving Bakura a squeeze and planting a kiss on his forehead. “Bakura, welcome to Banff, Canada!”

Bakura gave him a curious look. “Canada? Why Canada?”

Malik twirled a lock of his golden hair in his fingers, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Did you forget already, _hayati?_   When we were in Egypt, you said, and I quote, ‘I want to be somewhere, anywhere, that is the polar opposite of this’. Banff, Canada is indeed the _polar_ _opposite_ of Nowhere, Egypt.”

A slow grin spread onto Bakura's face. “And did you pick Banff in particular because it sounds like BAMF?”

Malik preened. “I knew you'd like it."

Bakura pulled him in for a kiss. “You know me well.”

* * *

When Malik first caught sight of Bakura in his skiing outfit, he almost fell on his ass from laughter.

“You- you fucking nerd hahaha, oh my god did you seriously just- Pffffft!”

Bakura looked smug in his yellow mask, black helmet, matching ski jacket and black waterproof pants, a slim backpack strapped onto his shoulders and around his waist.

“Get over here!” He pulled down his mask, grabbed Malik's hand and tugged him in for a kiss. Malik snickered against Bakura's lips, then kissed his nose, grinning at how his face scrunched up.

“Bakura, you're the cutest undead ninja ever.”

He gave Malik double finger guns. “Flawless victory.”

Malik laughed again, then slipped on his gloves. “Ready to hit the bunny slopes?”

“Can't be harder than navigating the Shadow Realm. Let's do it!”

Hand in hand, they hit the ski lift. The falling snow limited visibility of the ground, obscuring most of the trees and few people on the slopes. The almost featureless expanse of white reminded Bakura of when he had taken flights with Diabound over the desert. But despite how fun that had been, this was better- just having Malik by his side and Malik's arm around his waist made a world of difference.

He turned his head to sneak a kiss from Malik. The mask bumped uselessly against Malik's helmet, and Malik laughed at him. Then Malik raised his face guard and lowered his balaclava enough to kiss between Bakura's eyes, the only bit of him exposed to the elements. Bakura thanked him by resting his head on his shoulder for a moment, then pointed at the station up ahead.

“There's our stop. Ready?”

“Hell yeah! Let's go!”

They hopped off the chairlift with a whoop, and then raced to the top of the slope. They clicked their boots into their skis with little trouble, then tried their hand at walking in the skis.

Malik had his arms held out wide for balance, but was soon able to lower them as he got comfortable shuffling sideways around the clearing. “Hey, this isn't so bad. The video- Bakura, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Pizza to go slow, right? This is easier than I-” He was skiing backwards down the slope with the fronts of his skis pointed at each other in a wedge shape, then his legs were forced apart by the snow, he automatically leaned back, and fell head over heels into a snowbank. “Fuck!!”

Malik laughed as Bakura sat up, then shuffled over to help him back onto his feet. “ _Al'abalah!_ The pizza _is_ for slowing down, but only if you're facing the right way, sweetheart.”

Bakura shook the snow off himself and his backpack with a grumble, but squeezed Malik's gloved hand in thanks before grabbing his ski poles. “Okay, okay, let's try it the boring way then.”

The pizza technique proved to be effective at getting them zigzagging down the hill at a reasonable speed. They were two-thirds of the way down when Bakura shouted, “I'm going to french fry!” and zipped down the hill, whooping with exhilaration.  

“Wait!” Malik yelled at Bakura's quickly receding silhouette. He carefully turned his feet until they were almost parallel, and was able to speed up enough to keep Bakura barely in sight through the intensifying snowfall. Luckily, the end of the slope wasn't far, and Bakura cheered when Malik reached him.

“Hell yeah french fries! You killed it on the last bit there too! Not too shabby for a couple of noobs. Let's do a harder run!”

Malik smirked, but Bakura couldn't tell because of his mask. “Okay,” he said, “Yeah, that sounds good. Let's go!”

Bakura beamed, then popped his boots off of his skis and turned to slog towards the chairlift.

Something thumped against Bakura's backpack and crumbled on impact- he turned to spot Malik preparing another snowball for launch. Bakura dodged the second missile and smirked.

“Ah, you were just getting my guard down, eh? Well, there aren't any god cards in snowball fights, so there's no way you'll defeat me!” He scooped up a handful of snow, compacted it with a clap of his hand, and lobbed it at Malik, striking his hip despite Malik's attempts to dodge. “Ha!”

“Oh, but that doesn't mean I can't still fight dirty. Watch this!” Malik ducked behind a snowdrift.

Bakura scooped up another handful of snow and pulled his arm back, ready to throw as soon as Malik showed himself. He waited, eyes scanning the pile as snow continued to fall overhead, but Malik didn't pop up from behind it, so he started cautiously circling around it to try to catch Malik unawares– except that Malik wasn't there.

Another mild thump, against his shoulder, and Bakura whirled around to see Malik's shit-eating grin. He must have snuck down the hill while Bakura was focused on the snowdrift, then circled around behind the thief, taking advantage of their helmets’ limited field of view. “Oh, you bastard!”

Malik laughed and turned to flee, and Bakura gave chase, scooping up another snowball as he ran. He managed another hit onto Malik's butt, but his laughter slowed him down while Malik escaped into a thicket. Bakura barely dodged Malik's next throw, so he grabbed another fistful of snow and upped his speed until Malik was in sight again. He had a snowball in each hand at the top of a small hill.

“It's over Anakin, I have the high ground!” Malik threw his first projectile, striking Bakura's shin.

Bakura only grinned, taking aim. “You underestimate my power!”

He launched his snowball. Malik ducked instinctively, then lifted his head and laughed when the projectile missed, flying far above him.

“You mi-” A load of snow dropped onto his head from the tree branch above him, and Bakura whooped victoriously.

“Fuck!” Malik shook his head like a dog to free it from the weight of the snow, then dusted off his shoulders haughtily. Bakura threw his head back to laugh, and that was when Malik leapt towards him. “Oh, there will be _retribution_ for this!”

Bakura’s laughter rang through the trees and falling snow as he darted off into the trees, Malik in hot pursuit. They ducked under tree branches and scrambled up snow drifts and threw more snowballs, missing every time.

Soon enough they were out of breath, and Bakura turned to face Malik with his arms spread out. Malik tackled him into a snowbank, and they laughed between gasps for air.

Malik lightly bopped the front of his helmet against Bakura's. “Gotcha! The great King of Thieves pales in comparison to the leader of the Ghouls!”

Bakura snickered. “You’re right, but only literally!”

Malik rolled his eyes. “Dork!” He wrapped his arms properly around Bakura, then made a face as he got snow up his sleeves. “Ugh! I think I'm about done with snow.”

Bakura swept his arms and legs to make a snow angel, then wrapped his arms comfortably around Malik's waist.

“Yeah, I guess we probably should get back to the resort.”

“Do you have any idea where that is?”

“Nope!” Bakura grinned, tracing his gloved fingers along Malik's helmet and down towards his back. “This isn't my neck of the woods.”

Malik groaned in mock disgust. “I should have run you over in Battle City.”

“I would have been _floored_ by that introduction.”

“Bakura! Focus– civilization first, puns never.”

Bakura laughed. “I propose a compromise: civilization first, and then puns until you shut me up with kisses.”

“Fair enough. …So now what? Neither of us know how to get back.”

“That's true, we don't. But perhaps Diabound could help us with that.”

Malik's face lit up at the mention of the ka. “Oh yes, that's true! He can get an aerial view!” His smile dropped off his face when a snowflake landed onto Bakura's helmet. “Oh, wait- Bakura, it's snowing. I don't think he'll be able to see very much.”

“Not to worry. Diabound's tail can see heat, so he'll be able to get a good look even through the trees and snow. The only reason I'm not making your ka do the searching is because we really should be getting back.”

Malik crawled off of him and stood up, then offered Bakura a hand to help him up. Bakura took it, standing up and looking around to make sure there was really no one in view.

“But Bakura, you just said it yourself that Diabound can only do it because of his snake tail. Mine doesn't have a snake tail!”

“No, but how do you think I discovered Diabound's abilities in the first place? By trying things that were impossible until I figured out that some of them turned out to be pretty easy after all.”

Malik stuck out his tongue and startled when a snowflake landed on it. Bakura laughed at him, then settled an arm around Malik's waist. He liked to anchor himself when he summoned his ka, and Malik's solid presence made it easy to slip into the right state of mind. Diabound uncurled from Bakura's core, light solidifying into its shape.

The sight of the ka never failed to make Malik's heart soar. It was beautiful, sparkling silver-tipped scales and feathers as white as the snow falling around them. Every scar Bakura had earned in life and in death had been scored on the ka’s body and filled in with gold- the scar across his eye, the wound on his left arm, the imprint of the Ring’s spikes in Ryou's skin, the puncture of the castle spire through their hand. The ka's form told the thief's story, and its beauty always made Malik feel a little better about the scars etched into his own skin.

Diabound spread its massive wings and started to hover in the air. Its snake tail kept itself upright with its own pair of wings, its tongue tasting the air as it swiveled, seeking out heat. After a few moments, the ka took off, flying off over the forest. Malik looked at Bakura curiously, wondering what they had found, but his eyes were shut as he saw the world through Diabound’s eyes.

It was getting miserably cold despite his cold weather gear. Malik rubbed at his arms, and luckily it didn't take long for the ka to return after that.

“Hello again, Diabound,” murmured Malik.

The ka seemed to have heard him, shifting course slightly to settle in front of Malik. Malik instinctively held out his hand, and the ka carefully wrapped its much larger hand around Malik's palm, leaning forward until it rested its horn gently over Malik's hand. Malik's own ka fluttered in his chest, and Diabound politely let go of Malik's hand, settling upright again.

Its snake tail, less shy, shifted forward to taste the air around Malik. Malik grinned and offered his hand again, chuckling when the snake pressed its snout against his palm. Malik petted it affectionately for a few moments, noticing how the smaller set of wings flapped happily. The snake tail then retreated with a hissed sigh before Diabound faded out of sight, pulled back into Bakura's chest.  

Bakura opened his eyes, and was temporarily distracted by Malik's cute smile, then he managed to get his words in order again.

“We're in luck. Diabound found us something almost as good as civilization. There's a vacation cabin not far from here, and it's empty – a perfect place to _weather out the storm._ ” He winked, pretending to shoot Malik with his fingers, and Malik groaned reflexively at the pun.

“Alright then, let's go! I'm about ready to start digging into your snack hoard, and I'd rather not get snow on it.”

Bakura took his hand and started leading him through the snow.

“But Malik, I thought you loved spices?”

“Uhhh, yeah, I do.”

“So you shouldn't mind the extra _chilly._ ”

“Bakura, I brought your ass into this world and I can take you right back out of it.”

Bakura's laugh drowned out the squeaky crunch of fresh snow under their boots, and Malik felt a little warmer than before.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a longer walk than Malik would have liked, certainly, but not too bad a hike. He still sighed in relief when he saw the wooden cabin peeking out from the pillowy piles of snow on and around it.

“This is it! Your castle for the night, my king.” Bakura bowed playfully, and Malik couldn't help but laugh, tugging Bakura back up.

“Come on, knave, get me inside and light a fire.”

Bakura snickered, letting go of Malik's hand to approach the cabin. He quickly found the front door, but it was half-buried under several feet of snow.

“Looks like there hasn't been anyone home for a while, which is good for us. Can you grab my lock-breaking kit from the first backpack pocket, Malik?”

Malik retrieved the little leather-bound folio of tools and handed them over. Bakura had dug out the doorknob in the meantime, and he made quick work of it. It was always impressive to watch Bakura getting through locks, but doubly so when he was wearing the same thick gloves that had made it difficult for Malik to even open the backpack.

Bakura pushed, and luckily the door swung inwards, so they were able to shimmy into the cabin without having to dig through three feet of snow first. Once Bakura closed the door though, it became quite dark, the windows half-blocked by snow and the forest hiding what light remained from the sunset. The air, though scented with pine and cedar, had a musty smell that reminded Malik of the tombs. A shiver ran through him, and it wasn't entirely due to the cold.

A shuffling noise startled him, but it was just Bakura rummaging through his backpack beside him. Relief flooded through Malik's veins when the cabin was lit up by the flashlight Bakura had brought, and Malik wrapped the thief into a tight hug.

“Thank you…” Malik murmured. He knew perfectly well that the thief's grey eyes could see unusually well in the dark, and yet he insisted on bringing a heavy flashlight with him everywhere they went, purely for Malik's sake. Bakura’s answer was an affectionate squeeze, and a whispered “love you”.

Once Malik calmed down, Bakura started sweeping the flashlight over the interior of the cabin until he found a fireplace, and then again until he found a neat bundle of chopped wood.

“Oh, good! Bakura, you brought a lighter with you, right?”

“Nope. Didn't think I'd need one.” He took off his helmet, setting it on the floor, then pulled off his mask to free his face and speak more clearly. Malik did the same.

“Really? Well, I guess this was the one situation you weren't prepared for.”

Bakura's grin was a slash of white teeth in the darkness. “Who said I wasn't prepared? I don't need a lighter- I have _you_.”

“Ha ha, yes, I know I light up your life, you big nerd, but you know I haven't figured out how light fires yet.”

Bakura laughed at him. “You _do_ light up my life, treasure. And I think it's the perfect time to try lighting a fire. The cold will serve as motivation.”

“You're an awful teacher, Bakura.”

“Not as bad as the school of hard knocks. But I guess I can cut you a deal this time.” He settled an arm around Malik's waist, holding him close. “I can help you light the fire this time, but only if you promise to complete a harder task right after.”

Malik raised an eyebrow at him. “How is that a deal?”

Bakura only grinned. Despite the warmth of Bakura at his side, the cabin was still freezing, so Malik conceded.

“Alright, alright. Let's do it.”

Bakura hummed his approval, gave Malik an affectionate squeeze, then gathered up some of the wood and piled it up in the fireplace. Once done, he pulled off one of his gloves so he could slip his bare hand into Malik's glove.

“... Bakura, how is sharing a glove supposed to help me light the fire?”

But Bakura had his eyes closed and a serene smile on his face.

“Malik… Do you remember how your ka called out to me that day? When you brought me back from the shadows?”

He did remember. The spell had been difficult- no, more than that. The spell had been impossible. The magic had pulled and pulled and pulled at Malik until he had nothing left to give, and then it kept pulling.

He had shouted Bakura's name until he was hoarse and the sounds held no meaning, he had choked on blood and on syllables that had once been a name, and he had mouthed along to something he could no longer remember.

Malik had been certain, at that point, that he was going to die.

His last words were soundless, a plea to the heavens that he should at least join Bakura in death, and fire burned through his veins as he called out to Bakura a final time, power amplified by love and desperation, and Bakura had appeared.

Bakura had appeared.

“...Yeah. I remember.”

Bakura hummed, and Malik felt a spark between their linked hands, then a growing rush of heka pounding through his veins.

“Malik…  In that moment, I felt your heka run through me, revive me. In that moment, I felt I could do anything.”

Bakura's hand warmed against his, and the thief lazily raised his free hand to his lips. Heka flowed through them, and golden flames streamed from Bakura's lips, igniting the wood stacked in the fireplace and lighting the cabin in shades of orange and yellow.

Malik’s breath caught in his throat. Bakura's grey eyes glimmered in the fire’s light, and his smile dimpled his cheeks.

“See?” he whispered, barely louder than the crackling of the flames. “Your ka is full of life. Full of warmth, and power.”

“Is that what you want me to do? Summon my ka?”

“Yes.”

With the flow of heka between them still a vivid reality, Malik shifted his focus from Bakura to himself. He thought of his own pulse, how its steady tattoo sent life and warmth through his body. The beat of his heart, powerful and tireless, pushing him through time with every pulse.

The air around him warmed pleasantly, and there was a feathery brush against his arm.

Malik opened his eyes. Feathers glowing the fiery blue of sulfuric lava brushed against his arm, but didn't burn.

Malik took an instinctive step back, then looked up.

Bright, gilded eyes looked back at him.

Malik turned and found himself, and Bakura, surrounded by the glowing fire-feathers of a phoenix, gold clasped around its crane-like neck. Its lower body was feline in its shape, covered in black, solidified lava, amber magma glowing in marking-like patterns through the cracks in its surface. The ka thrummed with power, and the gryphon seemed built to race unimpeded through the earth or streak through the night sky like a comet.

Beside him, Bakura’s silvery eyes were wide with awe, irises reflecting the fiery light of Malik’s ka. He pulled off one of his gloves, then carefully held out a pale hand, a slight tremble betraying his nerves. The ka turned to peer at Bakura, clicking together a beak of hammered gold. It lowered its neck, pressing its crested head against Bakura's hand with a low trill. Bakura gently threaded his fingers through the cloud-soft feathers, enticing a pleased croon from the ka.

The way Bakura smiled like his heart was fit to burst at the seams from love had Malik’s cheeks rosy. He _recognized_ that the spark in Bakura's eyes, and the curve of his smile - but he had never seen this expression of Bakura's in its entirety because he was usually too busy kissing him when it happened.

Malik’s concentration broken, the ka slowly faded out of sight, lifting its head to nibble affectionately at a strip of Bakura's bone-white hair before disappearing in a final burst of fiery color.

“Malik… Your soul is beautif-!” but Malik was already kissing him, telling Bakura exactly how much he loved him with every brush of their lips and sweep of his tongue. Bakura melted onto him, soft moans and murmurs of delight escaping him between breaths, his hands gripping Malik’s jacket, one bare and one gloved. Malik kissed him until he started to feel too hot in all of his layers of clothing, so then he kissed Bakura's nose to smile at the way he scrunched it, then pulled away enough for them to catch their breaths without them mingling.

“Bakura, I love you so much.”

Bakura's cheeks were a rich coral so bright that it gave the fireplace a run for its money.

“Hey, that's my line.”

Malik smooched his cute face one more time, then started pulling off his layers. Bakura mimicked him, grinning.

“And see? Your ka warmed up the cabin a lot faster than the fire alone would have. I knew you could do it!”

Malik was down to his thermal underwear, and he waited for Bakura to finish taking off his snow pants before kissing his head. “You were right. Thank you. You're an excellent teacher.”

Bakura’s happy hum had Malik ready to shower him in more kisses and compliments, but he was feeling unpleasantly damp in his sweaty thermal layer. He took a proper look around the cabin for the first time.

The vacation home was cozy and well-furnished, with an overstuffed loveseat near the fire, a king-sized bed with a fuzzy red sherpa blanket on it, a small kitchen and a closed off room Malik presumed was a bathroom. He also spotted a light switch, and he quickly headed over to it, but it didn't work, and Malik made a face.

Bakura was behind him then, wrapping his arms around him.

“Power must be out. Probably because of the snowstorm.”

He leaned back against Bakura's chest with a sigh. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me light the fire. It's enough.”

Bakura pressed a soft kiss onto Malik's shoulder, tracing his nose along the skin of Malik's neck.

Malik lifted a hand to caress Bakura's cheek, smiling at his gentle affection. “Mmm… Do you think the water is out too? I could use a shower.”

“Let me take a proper look around, love. Sit here, by the fire.”

Malik turned in Bakura's arms to press several kisses onto his face, smiling as the thief turned up towards him with half-closed eyes and a delighted smile. He pressed a final little kiss onto Bakura's throat as a thank-you, then pulled away to seat himself by the fire. As Bakura rifled through the contents of an armoire, Malik pulled Bakura's backpack to himself and started digging out snacks for them to share.

He found a couple of half-frozen water bottles, several sticks of fancy jerky for Bakura, and vegan protein bars and dried seaweed for himself. His chickpea snack box was still sealed, and he debated whether to open it now or later. Malik decided to leave it in the backpack for now. He also ran into a bottle of lube, a packet of wipes and a vial of massage oil. The pleasing crackle of the pinewood fire gave him an idea, and he set the bottles near the grate to warm up, then placed the wipes on a little table beside the armchair.

Bakura returned then, and he grinned at the sight of the bottles near the fire.

“Good idea, king. And guess what? There's a hot tub in the bathroom. The jets and the water heater aren't working, but I've drawn up a bath.”

Malik smiled at the soft kiss Bakura planted onto his head then. “And you want me to heat the water with my heka too, right?”

“Right on the money.” Bakura scooped up the snacks in Malik’s lap so he could sit there instead, placing the food on a side table. He handed Malik one of his vegan snacks and started unwrapping one of his jerky sticks. “I did find a few emergency provisions stocked in the kitchen, but I think what we brought with us is better.”

“Fair enough.” Malik ate the protein bar one-handed so he could wrap an arm around Bakura, who nestled closer with a happy sigh.

It was wonderfully cozy by the fire. Licks of flame danced over the wood, murmuring with soft crackles and snaps, and filling the air with warmth and a rich, festive aroma. Bakura set his empty wrapper aside and caressed Malik's arm peacefully. Malik smiled, closing his eyes as he luxuriated in the moment.

After a few minutes, Bakura brought Malik's hand up to his lips and started pressing little kisses onto his fingers. Malik nuzzled at his hair in return, sighing at Bakura's comforting scent mixed with pinewood.

Bakura spoke then, only a little louder than the fire.

“Malik… Before, when I looked into a fire, all I could see was my village burning, all I could hear was their screams for mercy that were never answered. It made me dread the coolness of the desert night, even as unbearable as the heat was during the day.”

Malik startled, suddenly guilty at his previous enjoyment of the fire, but Bakura lifted his hand to cup Malik's cheek affectionately.

“No, don't feel bad. Ever since you brought me back, ever since you rescued me, that has never been the case. Now when I see fire, I think of _you_.”

He half-turned in Malik's lap so he could press a kiss onto his throat.

“Your heka is warmth, your ka is fire- I'll never forget the way you lit a trail of light and heat between the realm of the shadows and your arms. It was an impossible feat, highly dangerous to even try, but you did it. And you did it for _me_.”

Malik wrapped up Bakura in a tight hug, and Bakura hummed happily against his chest, his lips curling upwards in a grin.

“And now I get to live a life of more luxury than the pharaohs. Could the pharaohs snap their fingers and have the temperature of their throne room change at their whim? Could the pharaohs fly through the air to any destination they desired? Could the pharaohs experience the delight of finally beating the final boss of their favorite video game?”

He pressed another soft, lingering kiss onto Malik's throat. “Could the pharaohs ever be in your arms, and feel so warm and safe and loved that they didn't mind the weaknesses of mortal flesh, because with you, they didn't need to be strong?”

Their lips met then, and their kisses were so lush and sweet that Bakura forgot all about fires and pharaohs, lost in their wordless exchange. When their lungs forced them to stop for breath, Malik leaned his forehead against Bakura's, and they brushed noses, kissing the way their ancestors had.

Bakura sighed, then playfully knocked his head against Malik's. “Well, come on. Let's go take a bath. I'm ready to get started with the oil and the lube!”

Malik laughed at him, adjusting his grip on his thief so he could pick him up and carry him to the bathroom.

“You're insatiable, so we'd better hurry before we run out of wood.”

Bakura crowed with laughter even as he snuggled against Malik's chest.

“Don't worry love, I've always got a little hardwood for you!”

“Gods, your love of shitty puns is truly karma getting me back for the whole mind-controlling stint, isn't it?”

His words were tough, but Bakura was well aware of Malik's little huffs of laughter each time he made a joke, even the ones that he himself thought were particularly awful.

“I think you have a point, Malik. This certainly is a cosmic _pun_ ishment.”

Bakura cackled gleefully at Malik's eyeroll, and Malik set him down on the edge of the bathtub. Bakura watched as Malik set his hands on the edge of the tub, peering into the water as he tried to figure out how to heat it. After a few moments, Malik rolled up the sleeves of his thermal undershirt and immersed his hands in the frigid bathwater with a wince.

The hum of activating heka rippled the air as Malik started to heat the water. Bakura couldn't help but bask in it, soaking in the extra energy- Malik wasn't experienced enough to be efficient yet. The water started bubbling, and Malik pulled out his hands in a hurry.

Bakura laughed, grabbing Malik's hands to pull them up to his lips, kissing his fingertips. “Damn, you're so good at this! Where were you three thousand years ago when I was trying to storm the palace? A couple of Flamestrikes would have turned the tide!”

Malik’s cheeks were turning a dusky rose. He turned away and sniffed haughtily as he withdrew his hands from Bakura's grip, pulling off the rest of his clothes.

“If I had been there with you, we would have ruled from the Red Lands to Punt!”

“Malik, you've become humble in your old age.” Bakura laughed as he finished undressing. “A year ago, you would have said the whole world would be ours!”

“The whole world _could've_ been ours – except I'd have been too busy kissing you, you’d be a terrible distraction for a military campaign, moonlight.”

Bakura's mouth was slightly open from surprise, his blush spreading up from his nose to his ears. Malik stole several little kisses from Bakura's lips before he reacted, and then Bakura had his arms around Malik's neck and was kissing him fiercely. Malik wrapped his arms around Bakura's bare waist to pull him close, and they both moaned against each other's lips when their chests and hips pressed together.

After trailing kisses along Malik's cheek to his ear, Bakura murmured, “Let's get in the water before this gets too _steamy_.”

Malik snorted with laughter, then followed Bakura into the hot tub, sighing delightedly as the water's heat sunk into his bones. Bakura practically melted into the heka-infused water, his skin tingling pleasantly at the warmth and magic.

“Ahhh, fuck, this is good… Thank you Malik.”

Malik hummed in response, delighted that there was actually enough room to spread his legs. Bakura trailed a hand appreciatively up Malik's calf, then grabbed a bottle of body wash and a washcloth he had found in the closet. After dipping the terrycloth in the water, he lathered it up, and tugged one of Malik's feet out of the water. Once it was clean and smelled of hyacinth, Bakura playfully kissed each toe before moving on to Malik's other foot.

As Bakura worked his way up Malik's legs, pressing little kisses onto his knees, Malik relaxed into the water even more, chin-deep as he enjoyed the affection. When Bakura started stroking up his inner thighs though, Malik sat up straight, holding his arms out. Bakura grinned, then moved to sit in his lap, trailing the washcloth along Malik's chest. He could never get tired of tracing Malik's chest and arms with his fingers, nor could he ever tire of being wrapped in Malik's arms, nor could he ever tire of experiencing _Malik_.

With Bakura settled close, Malik grabbed hold of the shampoo. Noticing that Malik wanted his hair wet, Bakura anchored his knees on either side of Malik's hips, then leaned back until his hair was fully submerged. Once he sat up again, Malik smoothed his bangs away from his face to prevent water from dripping into his eyes, then started massaging Bakura's scalp.

Any residual stress drained out of Bakura's body as Malik rubbed affectionately at his head and toyed with his hair, and Bakura settled against Malik's chest with a blissful sigh, eyes shut. His hands moved to caress Malik's back, carefully drawing his fingers along the grooves of his scars to clear out any tiny irritants that may have stuck to the skin. It was a routine they looked forward to every day, a familiar dance they could do half-asleep and often did.

Once they had scrubbed the rest of each other's bodies, paying special, teasing attention to their half-hardened cocks, they reluctantly climbed out of the hot water and into the cooler air of the cabin. Bakura immediately wrapped Malik in a big soft towel, grinning at his delighted hum. Malik started helping Bakura dry his hair, then snickered as he had an idea.

“Hey Bakura, if I have heat powers, does that mean I can literally blow dry your hair?”

“That is an amazing and frankly hilarious idea, but I don't have water powers, so I'd rather not risk getting my hair on fire today.”

Malik laughed. “Don't be a coward, Kura!”

“Though with more practice, think of how much time you'll be saving when you can heat style your hair with your fingers. You might be able to fit your routine into two hours!”

Malik rolled his eyes at him playfully, though he did channel his heka again, to a lesser degree, to help dry off their hair a little bit by heating the air around them. Bakura’s eyes slipped shut in pleasure as warmth and heka flowed over his skin. Only once the magic had dissipated enough for him to feel a little cold naked did Bakura open his eyes and fetch the pair of plush bathrobes he had found in a cabinet.

Bakura swathed himself in the thick, soft bathrobe, chuckling at the fancy monogrammed R embroidered onto it.

“Look Malik, we're Team Rocket.”

Once Malik tied on his bathrobe, he stepped towards Bakura once, then again, until they were chest-to-chest and Bakura was looking up at him with his lips slightly parted. Malik smirked playfully as he slid his hands up to cradle Bakura's cheeks.

“Oh yeah? Then are you ready to blast off?”

He didn't give Bakura a chance to answer, pressing a soft, slow kiss onto his lips and then another. Bakura moaned quietly, and Malik answered by deepening their kisses, the pads of his thumbs brushing along Bakura's cheekbones.

“Malik,” whispered Bakura, and he settled his hands onto Malik's shoulders, licking his lips instinctively as he tried to come up with words. He could see the tiny flecks of color in Malik's irises, and Malik's heka, still partially active from recent use, heated the thin layer of air between them. Bakura could feel Malik's ba brushing slightly against his, and it made his belly tremble with a sweet longing Bakura had no words to describe. “Malik, I-”

Malik smiled and, just like that, Bakura lost any words he might have managed to herd together. Malik leaned down and kissed Bakura, settling his hands onto Bakura's hips over the plush white fabric. Bakura could still feel the heat of Malik's hands, and he moaned quietly against Malik's lips, pressing himself against Malik's chest and wishing he could feel Malik's smooth skin and sculpted chest against him instead of cloth.

Malik's hands slipped downwards, cradling Bakura's ass through the bathrobe for a moment. And then Malik was picking him up, lifting him off the floor, and Bakura could feel his muscles flex through their robes. Bakura wrapped his arms around Malik's neck and took advantage of his new, higher angle to take control of their kisses. He kept them slow and soft, pausing to suck on Malik's bottom lip and murmur contentedly between breaths. Malik smiled into the kisses, eyelids drooping half-shut as he peered into Bakura's eyes and sighed contentedly.

After a few rounds of kisses, Malik nuzzled his way to Bakura's neck, nudging aside the edge of his bathrobe to press his lips against Bakura's throat. Bakura moaned and his head tilted back automatically to give him more room. Malik indulged him with several kisses, luxuriating in Bakura's little gasps and the way his body trembled deliciously against Malik's, then he tightened his grip on Bakura a little. He walked them to the bed, and carefully lay Bakura down on it, taking a moment to appreciate the sight.

The white bathrobe wrapped loosely around Bakura's waist contrasted beautifully with Bakura's cheeks, flushed pink with arousal.  Malik crawled onto the bed, hovering over Bakura for a moment before settling on top of him. Bakura's fingers slipped into Malik's hair, caressing his head and tugging lightly at his golden curls. Malik pushed Bakura's bathrobe aside a little bit further to expose more of his creamy neck, and started to kiss his sensitive skin. Bakura gasped, and moaned, and shifted continuously under Malik, pressing closer and tilting his head to accommodate Malik's attentions. Each gentle bite and suck made desire heat more strongly in his core. The soft, plush robe brushed against his stiffening cock and encouraged Bakura to frot lightly against Malik's hard abdomen.

Malik was well-aware of Bakura's arousal, grinning against Bakura's throat as he paused for a moment to enjoy Bakura's moans and the way Bakura's thighs were clamping onto Malik's hips so he could hitch against him. Slipping a hand up Bakura's short bathrobe, ghosting up his inner thighs, felt wonderfully naughty. The way Bakura gasped and cried out in delight when Malik wrapped his hand around Bakura's heated cock and started to squeeze had Malik incredibly aroused, but he didn't give in to the temptation to grind against Bakura for a quick, messy finish.

Instead, he toyed with Bakura's cock, squeezing lightly and tracing his thumb over the tip, while he nudged Bakura's robe aside a little more with his nose until a rosy nipple peeked out. It was already peaked from Bakura's excitement, but the slight chill still remaining in the room made it harden a little more as Malik watched. He grinned, brushing his lips against it playfully before treating it to a rough lick.

Despite Malik's added body weight, Bakura's back arched off the bed entirely at the unexpected stimulation. “ _Malik!_ ”

“Yes, Bakura?” purred Malik, sucking on Bakura's nipple and then rolling it around with his tongue.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

“Yes, very well-said, love.” Malik felt his own cheeks flush a little at the word ‘love’, but Bakura seemed like he had forgot his entire vocabulary outside of expletives, writhing delightedly against Malik's hand and lips.

Malik nuzzled the bathrobe wider open still until most of Bakura's chest was exposed, the milky white expanse interrupted by his rosy pink nipples and the star-shaped scars where the Ring had left its mark. Bakura was starting to reach the brink of orgasm, but Malik wasn't ready for him to finish so soon. He lightened his touches and traced downwards to Bakura's balls, teasing him. Bakura's little whines as he bucked in protest made Malik chuckle against Bakura's chest.

“Do you want more?”

“Y-yes! Fuck yes! Malik- Ma- Malik, _fuck me!_ ”

Malik's lips curled into a grin. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled his hand out from under Bakura's bathrobe in favor of undoing the terrycloth belt like the bow of a wrapped gift. He slid both hands down Bakura's chest, then swept his palms to each side so the robe would fall open, fully revealing Bakura's firm chest, smooth belly, white happy trail, slightly-curved cock and soft thighs.

Bakura shivered at the sudden chill, but when Malik started kissing up his thighs, his body warmed considerably.

“Ahhh, Mmmmalik!” He tried to hitch upwards again, but Malik was holding his hips and keeping him grounded. “More!”

His demand only made Malik smile against his skin and blow air across the head of Bakura's erection. Bakura's attempt at a growl sounded more like a whine of need, and it was enough to convince Malik to lower his head and lick his way to Bakura's asshole.

A yelp of surprise escaped Bakura, and then he eagerly spread his legs to give Malik more room. Malik grinned, pulling a decorative pillow off the bed and positioning it under Bakura to lift his ass off the bed a little and give Malik space to maneuver. Malik let his breath ghost over Bakura's entrance for a moment, then started to tease him with little licks at his outer rim. Bakura cursed and tried to press his ass closer to Malik's mouth, and soon Malik obliged him with broader licks, his tongue sending strong jolts of pleasure up Bakura's spine.

Only Malik's hands on his hips prevented Bakura from bucking into the air when Malik started dipping his tongue as deep into Bakura as he could reach, in and out as Bakura moaned breathlessly. Bakura could only grip futilely at the silky bedsheets as he tried to meet the thrusts of Malik's tongue with rolls of his hips.

“Oh- oh Malik! I- I'm…!” But that only made Malik slow down his rhythm and Bakura squirmed in protest. “Malik, don't- don't stop-”

But Malik did pull his tongue out of Bakura's body, and Bakura sunk back into the bed with a groan of need. Malik fussed with something while Bakura caught his breath. Then a kiss alighted on the base of his shaft, and with only that warning, Malik shifted to wrap his lips around the head of Bakura's cock, a lubed finger slipping into his ass.

Bakura shouted to the heavens as he shuddered in ecstasy, both a cry of thanks and a plea for more. He rolled his hips feverishly as Malik bobbed his head, taking in a little more of Bakura's cock every time he came down. Malik eased in a second finger, and then a third, hooking until he set off a string of fireworks in Bakura's belly. He slipped his hand in Malik's flaxen hair as he moaned and hitched into his mouth.

The wet heat of Malik's mouth and the deliberate sweeps of Malik's fingertips soon undid Bakura, passion and pleasure rising to a fever pitch. Malik swallowed around him, once, twice, and Bakura wailed in ecstasy. Afterwards, he melted back onto the bed, panting blissfully as a strong afterglow pulsed through his body, fizzling like heka.

Malik pulled away to kiss his way up to Bakura's lips, and Bakura wrapped his arms warmly around him, bundled up as he was in his plush robe. They kissed, and Bakura's peaceful grin shifted into an amused smirk when he felt Malik's cock hard and throbbing against his thigh.  He let his fingers tease up and down Malik's spine over the bathrobe as he moved to whisper in Malik's ear, his voice deeper and gruffer from his early shouts.

“Mmm, Malik, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Malik was breathing hard, his cock twitching between them. “Time for the lube?”

“Almost.” Bakura's fingers moved to map the curves of Malik's ass, squeezing lightly through the robe. “Do you want your back rub before or after your orgasm?”

A slow grin spread onto Malik's face, his lips red and a little swollen from the friction of the blow job. “Why not both?”

Bakura laughed. “Excellent choice.”

His eyes traced Malik's face, never tiring of the rosewood hue of his skin or violet tint of his irises. He couldn't resist stealing another few kisses from Malik's mouth before carefully rolling them over, making sure to avoid putting his weight onto Malik.

“How's your back feeling, love? Do you want to lay down, or sit up?”

Malik shifted experimentally on his back, then made a face. “Yeah, I'd rather sit.” He looked around the room and grinned when he found what he was looking for.

“'Kura, why don't you pull up the ottoman?”

“Perfect- a much better plan than Battle City!” He hopped off the bed to grab it, and placed it next to the bed.

Malik sat up, slipping open his bathrobe seductively, spreading his legs and planting his feet on either side of the ottoman. He leaned back, resting his weight onto his forearms.

“Oh, I don't know about that, Bakura. My plans worked pretty well.” He grinned, eyes lighting up as he watched Bakura's face for a reaction. “I could say I had a good head on my shoulders.”

Bakura chuckled at the pun, then paused to drink in the sight of Malik, his thighs the color of rich earth, golden curls trailing down from a toned belly to a thick erection, standing proud in a way that had Bakura licking his lips.

“Good head, eh?” He ghosted his hands along Malik's thighs, then sat down on the ottoman, spreading his own legs so he could scoot closer to the bed. “Don't mind if I do.”

Whenever he was between Malik's legs, it was always hard to think, so Bakura let his instinct take over. He let his warm breath ghost over Malik's cock, as he slipped his fingers up Malik's thighs, grinning as he felt him tremble with desire. He playfully traced the tip of his nose down Malik's erection, then lowered his head a little more to lick at Malik's balls.

Malik's breath caught in his throat, then he moaned, loud and shameless, as Bakura licked and sucked, his hips starting to shift as his cock twitched with need. It took a lot less teasing than usual to unravel Malik this time, and Bakura's ears heated up at the renewed realization that Malik would really get _this_ excited from getting Bakura off.

Even more eager now, Bakura pressed a kiss onto each of Malik's thighs, then slid his hands under Malik's legs to position them onto his shoulders.

“Mmm, Bakura, what are you- oh! Oh!!! Oh gods!” Malik shouted at the ceiling as Bakura's lips wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking fiercely. He couldn't help but buck a little deeper into Bakura's mouth, shuddering as Bakura swallowed around him and jolts of pleasure traveled up his spine.

Malik sat up, running his hand through Bakura's cloud-soft hair and cursing delightedly. It wasn't long until Malik was throwing his head back to moan what should have been Bakura's name, but with more fervor than syllables, words lost in a haze of pleasure that lit up like stars. Bakura swallowed around Malik several times, then pulled away, looking up at Malik with a grin as he licked his lips, just as red as Malik's had been earlier.

A thick, syrupy warmth pulsed through Malik's body in the afterglow, and he flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. After another few kisses onto Malik's sculpted thighs, Bakura carefully moved Malik's legs off his shoulders, then crawled onto the bed next to Malik.

It was too warm in his bathrobe now, so Malik undid the belt and pulled his arms out. He stretched, then rolled over onto Bakura, smiling at his surprised murmur and pressing a soft kiss onto his mouth.

“Mmm… I'm ready for my backrub. You may be full of heka, but your true power is in your hands.”

Bakura smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “I thought you said it was in my mouth.”

Malik rested his elbow on Bakura's chest and tapped thoughtfully at his chin. “Hmmmm, that's true. I guess you're a man of many talents.”

Bakura laughed, cupping Malik's cheeks to land several kisses onto his face, then carefully rolled them over so he could shift onto his haunches. Malik smiled up at him, and Bakura was struck by his beauty all over again. Malik didn't let Bakura's thoughts linger too long, pulling him down for a few more sweet, soft kisses before letting go and rolling into his belly.

The sight of Malik's scars, faded and shallower than he had ever seen them, brought a smile to Bakura's face.

“I'll be right back”, he whispered, pressing a kiss between Malik's etched wings. It took only a few moments for Bakura to fetch the fire-warmed oil, and soon he was settled with his knees on either side of Malik's ass. He took a few moments to caress Malik's back with his bare hands, soothing Malik's skin and letting him sink into an appropriately relaxed state.

After spreading the pleasantly hot oil onto his palms, Bakura started with Malik's shoulders, thumbs pressing into his traps. Malik moaned outright as the heat sunk into his muscles. Bakura grinned, taking his time to really knead the stress out from Malik's neck and shoulders.

When Malik's breaths were slow and even, almost as if he were asleep from the deep relaxation, Bakura swept his hands to the nape of Malik's neck. Applying a little pressure, he slowly swept down Malik's spine, working out the kinks. Malik sighed, and Bakura smiled as he pushed his palms back up Malik's spine.

The oil had cooled a little bit, and so Bakura poured a generous amount onto Malik's broad back. He hummed delightedly as he started spreading the heated oil onto Malik's skin, breathing in the heady scents of frankincense, cedarwood, and myrrh mixed in with the smoky pinewood from the fire. Textured symbols scrolled under his palms and fingers as he kneaded the oil into Malik's scarred back, and Bakura lost himself to the experience.

Malik moaned shamelessly under the careful sweeps of Bakura's hands, wanting to express how much he was enjoying this. Nothing was better than this, the familiar warmth and weight of Bakura, focused on Malik's comfort and pleasure, the contrast off their sweet intimacy and thrill of stolen luxury, the plush softness of the bathrobe against his swelling cock. It was so, so good, and Malik never wanted the experience to end.

A low hum slowly came to Malik's attention, a rumbling melody that was oddly familiar. Heka danced between Bakura's hands and Malik's scars, and Malik's blood fizzed pleasantly in his veins. Bakura’s voice rose to a murmur, a soft whisper of a song that hadn't been heard aboveground for centuries, and Malik could _feel_ each of his individual scars- but none of them hurt. They simply felt _present_ , and then the feeling faded, replaced by the soft press of Bakura's lips between his shoulder blades.

Malik gasped.

Bakura’s caresses became more sensual, his fingers tracing and praising each muscle, and he leaned down to kiss heated trails down Malik's back. Malik moaned in appreciation, and Bakura rolled his hips with a soft gasp. The feel of Bakura's erection growing thick and hot against his ass had Malik hitching his own cock against the feathery soft bathrobe underneath him. He lifted himself up slightly to get the very distracted Bakura on top of him to give him room, then shifted until he was facing upwards.

Bakura's grey eyes were half-shut and full of desire, his smooth pale skin lit up in yellows and oranges from the firelight, broken up by his puckered scars and the white trail under his belly. He knelt over Malik, and Malik pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss quickly became two, then three, and then Malik was squeezing Bakura's ass eagerly as they bucked against each other, laughing because they kept missing each other's mouths when they tried to kiss and frot at the same time.

“Damnit, the lube!” Bakura looked towards the fireplace, then flopped onto Malik's chest, knowing full well that he would be the one fetching it. Malik laughed at him, then pressed a flurry of soft kisses onto Bakura's face.

“Mmm… If you grab the lube, moonlight, then I'll prep you so you can ride me on the loveseat in front of the fire.”

“Better than the pier deal, I'll take it!”

He hopped off Malik and hustled to grab the heated lube, and Malik laughed at the bounce of his erection. Malik followed at a more leisurely pace, pulling the sherpa blanket off the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape. He sat down in the loveseat as if it was his throne, and Bakura crawled onto his lap, knees on either side of Malik's hips.

Malik ran his fingertips over Bakura's legs and thighs, trailing up towards his ass and grinning as Bakura shivered and pressed closer to his chest. He took the heated lube from Bakura's hand and spread some onto his fingertips. Bakura's eagerness made his eyes glitter, and Malik kissed his half-open lips as he slipped a finger into the cleft of Bakura's ass.

Bakura moaned, leaning heavily into Malik to lift his ass up enough for Malik to maneuver. That gave Malik an idea, and he dropped the lube beside him as he fumbled at the side of the armchair. It reclined partway, and that allowed Bakura to press himself close to Malik's chest while keeping his ass elevated. When Malik started teasing Bakura's asshole with the tip of his forefinger, Bakura cradled Malik's face in his hands and kissed him deeply.

When they broke for breath, Malik pressed into Bakura's ass, the heated lube and their prior play making it easy, and Bakura moaned, loud and sweet. He tossed his head back when Malik slipped in a second finger, and Malik took that as an invitation to lick and suck at the sensitive skin of Bakura's neck. That quickly had Bakura panting and grinding against Malik's cock as he shuddered in need, gasping out pleas disguised as Malik's name. His third finger brushed against Bakura's prostate, and his shout of ecstasy had Malik dripping precum.

Another fumbling application of lube, and then Malik was finger-fucking Bakura in earnest, and Bakura was shuddering and crying out in pleasure. It was so damn good that Bakura couldn't take it anymore without finishing too soon, so he sat up and snatched the lube, pouring a generous amount onto Malik's thick, dark cock and some onto his own to enjoy the heat of it. Bakura hurriedly stroked him, groaning at how hot and engorged Malik felt in his hand and already imagining how fucking good it would be in his ass.

He wasted no time in lifting himself then, and slowly, carefully lowering himself onto Malik's erection, thighs trembling as he felt the tip push into him. Malik rolled his hips, and then he was filling Bakura, and Bakura gasped as sparks of pleasure jolted up his spine. Bakura settled, savoring the heat of the fire and Malik's body and heady sensation of being filled, the scent of Malik's natural musk and that of the massage oil and the fire, the reverent look in Malik's jewel-like eyes as he looked up at Bakura.

Bakura's hair was a halo in the firelight, and Malik couldn't help but steal a kiss from those reddened lips. Their moans mingled as they started to move, building up a steady rhythm that sped up faster and faster until each of Bakura's cries of pleasure blurred together into a wail of ecstasy and Malik had his feet up on the seat so he could leverage his thrusts better and his hands on Bakura's hips to guide him.

Soon they were both on the brink, and the intense bursts of pleasure through Bakura's body from each thrust meant that he only needed a few quick strokes from Malik's hand for a powerful orgasm. Bakura called out to the gods in euphoric thanksgiving as his blood crackled with pleasure and energy. The accidental activation of heka drove Malik a little wild as he drove into Bakura several more times and then spiraled into rapture himself, howling out Bakura's name as he felt the universe coalesce.

They both crumbled into a comfortable heap on the loveseat, little sparks of heka leaping between them as they caught their breath. Bakura made the first move, pressing several soft kisses onto Malik's jaw and sighing peacefully.

“Mmm… that was so fucking good.”

Malik chucked and buried his face in Bakura's fluffy hair, kissing his head.

“Did that make up for all of the sand yesterday?”

Bakura pretended to scoff.

“I don't know about that, but perhaps a nice nap could change my mind.”

His gaze fell into the travel pack of wipes beside them, and he started to clean up the mess he had splattered onto Malik's abs and chest. It always took him longer than would be expected to clean up Malik because getting Malik's sculpted body clean was almost as fun as getting it dirty.

Malik snickered at him.

“Oh, is that right, Grumpy Cat?” He kissed Bakura's nose and laughed when Bakura's nose scrunched and his lips curled up into a grin. “Let's give it a shot, love.”

He pulled the blanket around Bakura, bundling them up together warmly, and tilted the comfortable, overstuffed loveseat back a little more.

Bakura settled snugly onto Malik's chest, tucking his nose into the crook of Malik's neck, then remembered. “Oh! The fire.”

Malik raised an eyebrow, then he saw Diabound shimmer into existence to add another bundle of wood to the fire.

“Ah. Thank you, Bakura.” He kissed Bakura's head again. “You come up with some pretty good plans too.”

Malik could feel Bakura's smile against his collarbone, and the warmth and coziness of the moment soon sent them into a deep and comfortable sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Soft, warm breaths puffed against Malik's collarbone. Malik awoke slowly, still lulled by the comforting weight and heat of his thief, and the blanket they had cocooned themselves into. Thankfully, the fire still burned, lighting up the room enough to keep Malik calm, though Malik noticed that there was barely any wood left. Bakura must have kept it stoked through the night, though Malik had slept deeply enough that he hadn't noticed any movement.

He gave Bakura an affectionate squeeze, and his thief murmured happily and nestled a little closer, arms wrapped around Malik. It was so peaceful, the gentle thump-thump of their heartbeats in sync. Malik wondered why they didn't wake up like this more often, with Bakura snuggled onto his chest.

His scars.

He had almost forgotten. Somehow?

They didn't hurt now though, which was strange. He couldn't usually sleep on his back for very long, especially not when he had Bakura on top of him. If he laid on his back too long, his scars would ache and itch and only the numbness brought by a cold shower would give him any relief.

He shifted experimentally, curling his shoulders inwards and arching his back, expecting his scars to burn at the stretching of his skin, but he felt nothing. Swinging his shoulders back and squeezing his shoulder blades together didn't pain him either. Strange…

Bakura's sleepy yawn interrupted his train of thought, and Malik pressed another kiss onto his forehead.

“Oh, good morning _aziz_.”

There was a brush of soft lips against his collarbone and a blissful murmur, then Bakura was blinking up at him sleepily.

“Morning, sunrise…” He yawned again, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Malik's waist and nuzzling closer.

Malik snickered, always amused at how long Bakura took to wake up properly now, particularly when Malik held him close. “Come on, babe. Rise and shine!”

Instead of rising and shining, Bakura slipped his hands up Malik's back, knowing all too well that it was Malik's personal kryptonite. Malik allowed it, as he always did, relaxing into the gentle, slow sweeps of Bakura's palms and fingertips over his damaged skin.

It was hypnotizing, the circular motions and the mild pressure of Bakura's caresses, combined with the slow rhythm of his breaths and heartbeat, which Malik unconsciously started to match. The room was just dark enough for sleep, just light enough for comfort, and just chilly enough for their blanket to be the perfect refuge. Malik felt himself nodding off, and there really was no reason they had to get up _right this moment_ , so he allowed it, burying his nose in Bakura's soft grey hair. He drifted off, enjoying the smooth glide of fingertips across his back…

Wait.

Smooth?

Bakura's fingertips usually ended up slipping into and over the carvings in Malik's back. And yet… in areas where he _knew_ a scar was, he… still felt Bakura's finger slide over it without resistance…?

“Bakura…”

“Mhm…?”

“My- my back. Did you…? Did- did you…?!”

That seemed to catch Bakura's attention. He shook his head lightly to help wake up, then pressed his fingers into Malik's back with a little more force, a firm stroke from Malik's shoulder blade to the small of his back. Bakura's fingers should have encountered dozens of knife strikes along their path, yet they slipped downwards unencumbered, and it felt so damn good that Malik breathed out a soft moan.

Bakura’s face lit up in a smile. “It worked!”

“Mm? Wait, what worked?”

“Oh, first let me see…” Bakura shifted into a crouch, looking over Malik's shoulder at his back. Malik leaned forward so that Bakura could get a better look, his mind racing and his heart pounding as he tried to not get too excited.

Gentle fingers traced over his back.

“Yes, I can still see the marks… but at least there aren't any furrows any more… but perhaps with more practice…?”

Malik tugged him back down onto his lap, holding Bakura's cheeks between his hands.

“Bakura. What did you do?”

Bakura's eyes wouldn't meet Malik's then, and he fidgeted slightly. “Well… Your scars pain you, right? I've always wondered if… if I could heal your back with heka. Back in Kul Elna, almost everyone had a touch for healing. It certainly helped keep me alive back then. But I'd never used it on anyone else.”

He peeked up at Malik again, then looked down again. “I did try, every time I rubbed your back I tried. But those were old scars, and deep ones, tied up with an awful heka of their own. I just couldn't get my heka _through_. But then I thought that perhaps with both of our heka working together, I might be able to heal you a little bit… So I started encouraging you to learn to work with your ka."

Heated tears started to prickle at the back of Malik's eyes. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”  
  
"I didn't want to get your hopes up…! I didn't know if it would work!"

Malik released Bakura's face so he could dash away the tears building up in his eyes, but Bakura caught his hands and kissed away his tears instead. Malik laughed, then hid his face against Bakura's neck.

“Thank you, Bakura. Thank you, thank you, thank you… You- you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Bakura slipped his fingers through Malik's hair, marveling at how soft it was, and tracing his fingers up Malik's smoothed back. Malik lifted his head to steal a kiss from Bakura's mouth, and the thief cupped Malik's cheek in his hand.

“Gods above… Malik, you're the best thing that's ever happened to _me_ , and I've been around for thousands of years! You're so damn clever, I still can't believe you got such a huge following together as a _child_. And so strong, that not even trauma or your other personality _whose greatest desire was to eliminate you_ could keep you down.”

He smiled, kissing Malik's nose and watching his lavender eyes slip shut. “And you're so beautiful, you put the sun to shame.”

The reverence in Bakura's tone made Malik's face heat up. His words, normally effortless, jumbled up, and so he pressed his lips into the palm of Bakura's hand until he could corral his warm, fluttering thoughts into something he could say out loud.

“Bakura… You're legendary. You're-” Malik laughed, a little embarrassed. “You're literally the man of my dreams. My father would read out the list of your crimes, but what I _heard_ were the tales of adventure, of daring exploits, of boundless determination.”

He gave Bakura's hand another kiss, then rested his head against Bakura's chest, feeling his heart beat strongly under his skin. “You were my hero. I dreamt that you'd save me, take me away from a future that held only dread. And then, years later- even when so thoroughly possessed by a demon that you couldn't remember who you were- you did. You saved me. And not just me- my whole family. What had seemed to be a failure, what could have cost you your chance at revenge- it was the fulfillment of a dream I had long discarded.”

Tears welled up in Malik's eyes again, and he swept them away with the hand of his hand. Bakura trembled underneath him for a moment, and then he was clutching Malik to himself with one arm and dashing away his own heated tears with his other arm.

“Malik- we were- we _are_ partners! We've never been perfect, but we've saved each other! You pulled me from the shadows after the final game- there was no escape for me anymore, I was supposed to rot there for eternity but you _pulled me out!_ …And now I get stay here with you. In this world I had tried so hard to destroy.”

Malik grinned, hiding his face against Bakura's neck and pressing a kiss onto his skin. “Yeah, destroying the world would've been a bad move. Think of all the delicious food you would have been missing out on.”

Bakura broke into laughter despite his wet eyelashes. “Are you saying it would have been a big _missed-steak?_ ”

Malik lightly smacked his chest at the awful pun.

“And then I found out that under all the mystery and intrigue, my childhood hero was really just a dork who loved puns and games- and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Bakura, I love you so damn much, I-” They were kissing then, between hiccuping gasps for air, the tears on their eyelashes completing their fall. But Malik's heart sang, and Bakura's must have been voicing the same tune, because heka flowed hot and thick between them, fizzing pleasantly in Malik's veins.

Bakura pressed his nose against Malik's, the way kisses used to be. It was gentle, it was sweet, and was strangely intimate. Malik was reminded of the first time he had stepped into Bakura's soul and felt something akin to calm for an instant- even in the turmoil of Battle City.

The flow of heka simmered pleasantly between them a little longer, then Malik kissed Bakura's nose, grinning when he automatically scrunched it up and smiled. A grumble sounded from Bakura's stomach then, and Malik laughed, a twinkle in his eye.

“Ready for breakfast, thief king?”

Bakura pressed a kiss onto Malik's collarbone, then nibbled playfully at it for a moment. “Only if it's dessert. I'm in the mood for some sugar, honey.” He winked, a finger gun lazily tapping at Malik's chest.

A little snort of laughter escaped Malik, and he kissed Bakura's head. “You dork!”

Bakura's grin was smug and unrepentant. “Your dork.”

Malik laughed. “Absolutely right.” He kissed Bakura, though their smiles were too wide for the kisses to be more than the brushing of lips.

After a final little kiss onto Bakura's cheek, Malik rested his forehead against Bakura's. “I've got something for you. You won't want to eat it, but I hope you like it.”

Bakura made a questioning noise, then grinned as he nuzzled along Malik's collarbone. “I'm sure I won't find it entirely _distasteful_.”

Malik's eyes rolled back in his head as Bakura laughed against his neck. “Don't make me rescind my gift before you even get it!”

He stuck his hand into the backpack beside the armchair, and felt around for the familiar heft of the little box. When he set the box in Bakura's hands, Bakura's white eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“The chickpea snack thing?”

“Yes. I know you hate chickpeas and so you'd never try to open it and ruin the surprise.”

“The surprise…?” Curious now, Bakura sat up a little straighter in Malik's lap, carefully opening the box and revealing a golden-sheathed dagger with a handle of intricately-carved electrum.

Bakura's hands trembled for a moment, and then he clutched the dagger, box and all, to his chest.

“W-where,” and he swallowed back the second sob that tried to escape him, “Malik, where did you find this?”

"It was with me. In the tombs, I mean. It had always been there.” Malik’s eyes traced over Bakura's face, a hint of worry furrowing his eyebrows. “It was yours, wasn't it?”

“Yes. It was. This knife… it was from the first tomb I ever robbed. I was young then, inexperienced, but certain that I could do it. Overconfident.”

Bakura's grey eyes were unfocused as he spoke, and Malik, concerned, lifted a hand to cradle Bakura's cheek. The thief’s eyes slipped shut, and he leaned into Malik's touch with a quiet sigh.

“I made it into the tomb alright. Got through the traps, a combination of sheer luck and divine providence, I'm sure. Found the burial chamber. Saw more gold and gems and fine food than I'd ever seen in my short life.”

A dry chuckle. “And that's saying something, because that tomb had been looted before- the previous robbers had made a mess of it. But somehow, they had missed _this_.”

He slowly loosened his grip on the knife box and set it between them so that Malik could look at it again. “This is a star-metal knife. I didn't know it then, but it was handsome and I immediately hung it from my belt. I gathered up as much of the rest of the treasure as I could.”

A soft huff of breath as Bakura remembered how he had rejoiced when gathering up the gold. “It was _a lot_ of treasure. Too much- with so much weight, I got caught in a trap. Sliced up my leg and my face.” He traced a horizontal slash across his left cheek. “Dropped it all, and limped my way out of the tomb, bleeding like hell. The guards had heard my scream and were on high alert. I only made it back to my hideout because Diabound hid me from their eyes.”

Malik brushed his thumb across Bakura's cheek, then kissed his nose, smiling when Bakura automatically grinned and scrunched his face.

“In the tombs, this knife was considered to be as evil as its old owner, but shouldn't be destroyed because it had fallen from Nut’s curls. So it had years of old tombkeeper curses it, but I was able to convince Isis to break them for you.”

Bakura snorted derisively. “As if some shitty old curses could stop me. Still…” He boxed the knife back up, then lifted his face and pressed his lips against Malik's. “Thank you, Malik. This knife had saved me many times in life. I've felt naked since I lost it in that final battle with the pharaoh.”

Malik smiled, then grinned, lightly smacking Bakura's shoulder. “Are you kidding me? This is my childhood dream come true! Giving the legendary starmetal knife back to the King of Thieves, and getting a kiss as a thank-you?”

He pretended to swoon, and Bakura laughed, pretending to catch him.

“Oh, that kiss won't be the only thank-you you'll be getting.” Bakura's grey eyebrows bounced playfully. “A lot of the thank-yous won't be appropriate for childhood dreams though- they'll be rated E, but not _E for Everyone_.”

Malik snickered, then buried a hand in Bakura's thick mane of hair. He leaned in to kiss Bakura deeply, more than pleased at the way Bakura's arms wrapped around his neck and Bakura's thighs tightened around his hips. When they split apart to breathe, Bakura's eyes were a little unfocused again, but this time from pleasure, and Malik smiled.

“Mmmm, that's an excellent idea, my wonderful King of Thieves. But how about you save the thanking for the hotel room? I'm ready for some room service right about now.”

Bakura stole one more soft kiss from Malik's lips, then sighed, loathe to get up from under their warm blankets.

“Your wish is my command, my king, but I'm really not looking forward to having to put on all those winter clothes again.”

Malik laughed, running his fingers through Bakura's soft hair. “I know what you mean. I think we had more than enough cold for a month yesterday. Let's head somewhere warmer tomorrow.”

“Definitely.” Bakura sighed, then reluctantly started to shift, climbing off Malik with a groan. He made a face at the cooler air of the cabin, hugging the box to himself.

Malik lingered in the blankets a little longer before following suit, stretching before dressing. He watched with amusement as Bakura fixed up the cabin, making the bed with fresh sheets and bundling the used sheets and towels into a small pile next to it.

Bakura caught him watching and flushed slightly with embarrassment. “Ryou _will_ kick my ass if he finds out I didn't.”

Malik only grinned, digging through Bakura’s bag to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. “Fair enough.”

While Bakura tidied, Malik started dressing, bundling up warmly again. He sincerely hoped they hadn't wandered too far from civilization. He certainly didn't like the idea of having to wander for hours.

“Alright, Malik! Let's make like eggs and scramble!”

Malik grinned when he saw Bakura dressed up in his Scorpion-inspired outfit again, the knife in its sheath strapped to his side.

"That does sound like a healthy plan to me.” He took Bakura's gloved hand in his own, then opened the front door.

They were greeted by a wall of white.

Malik stared. “...Shit. That's a lot of snow.”

Bakura poked at the snow experimentally, and a small amount crumbled onto the floor. He jumped up and swiped at the snow over their heads, knocking some more snow into the cabin without exposing any hint of the world outside.

“Well. We could _probably_ dig our way out, but we'd make a hell of a mess in here.”

Panic started to bubble in Malik's belly, the cabin shrinking in on him. “We- we have to get out, Bakura!”

Startled by the fear in his voice, Bakura turned to him, then closed the door and wrapped his arms around Malik's waist.

“Malik, don't worry!” He grinned, pressing a little kiss onto Malik's chin.  “Do you think Diabound could be stopped by some pathetic powdered water?”

“What do you-”

The glowing white ka burst into existence, wrapping his muscled arms around them and beating his massive wings. The wooden ceiling approached them at a rapid pace and Malik winced at the impact, but it never came.

He opened his eyes and saw only white for a terrifying moment, and then they were through the roof and the snow, the sky a crisp blue above them.

Diabound carefully set them down on top of the thick snow coating the rooftop, and Malik laughed at the way the snow crunched beneath their feet now that they were tangible again.

“Bakura,” Malik grinned, “You're the Bast.”

The mask hid Bakura's mouth, but his eyes lit up at the joke, and he squeezed Malik delightedly as Diabound faded back into his body.

“I love you so damn much, Malik.”

“Love you too, Moonlight.”

Movement caught Malik's eye and he turned his head, then laughed.

“Holy shit! Bakura, look! It's the ski lift!”

“What? Oh my gods, you're right!”

They both waved at the ski lift, and the group of skiers on the nearest chair waved back.

Bakura shook his head, marveling at it. “I guess it didn't have any riders on it, so Diabound and I missed it in all the snow!”

Malik cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Hey! How far to the station?”

The skiers yelled back, pointing behind them to where the top of the terminal was visible in the horizon.

“Malik, we can just follow the lift! It's not far at all!”

Malik yelled his thanks back at the skiers, then grinned at Bakura.

“I'll race you there!”

“Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong!”

They slid off the roof onto a soft, snowy landing, then took off, laughing and teasing each other as they barreled over the snow back to civilization.

* * *

 As fun as it was to run around in the snow, the warmth of the hotel lobby was a welcome change. Malik and Bakura were more than glad to take off their hats and masks and gloves and scarves, and they headed to the resort hotel's front desk to check in.

The lady at the front desk looked surprised when she looked up their reservation.

“Mr. and Mr. Ishtar? It says here that your flight and your luggage arrived yesterday morning. Were you two out all night during that snow storm?”

Bakura sighed dramatically. “Yeah, we were, and it was rough. We could have been playing Diablo II the whole time! Now _that_ would have been some Blizzard Entertainment!”

No one laughed at the joke, though Malik did raise an eyebrow.

The receptionist leaned forward conspiratorially. “While you were out there… did you two see the Snow Angel?”

They looked at each other, puzzled. Malik turned back to the woman. “Umm, no, we didn't. What's the Snow Angel?”

The receptionist laughed, then waved her hand as if to shoo the topic away.

“I don't know! Some kids checked in last night claiming they saw a winged monster in the snow. One of them said they caught it on Snapchat, but it didn't look like much to me! You gentlemen enjoy the rest of your stay, and keep an eye out for any new monsters that might show up on the mountain, alright? Banff is just full of surprises!”

They traded glances, then thanked the lady and hurried up to their hotel room.

The door was barely shut before Bakura was exclaiming, “Holy _shit!_ Someone recorded Diabound?!”

“I'm sure it'll be okay, Bakura, it's not like they can-”

“Diabound is the new Bigfoot, he's a fucking _cryptid_ now, Ryou is going to _scream!”_

Malik burst into laughter. “What do you think they'd name _my_ ka if it showed up on Instagram?”

Bakura grinned, bumping his forehead against Malik. “The Kentucky Fried Chicken.”

“I'm divorcing you immediately, right now.”

A few kisses convinced Malik to let Bakura keep his new last name, a luxurious brunch let Malik forgive some of his puns, and an afternoon backrub quickly restored Bakura into his good graces. They joined the mile-high club on their way to the Caribbean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary of Arabic words, according to Google Translate:  
> aziz - عَزيز - beloved/precious  
> al'abalah - الأبله - idiot  
> hayati - يا حياتي - my life/love  
> (If anyone knows Arabic and has a more fitting suggestion for some of these words, I'd be happy to fix up what I've got!)
> 
> Referenced Paper Mario walkthrough vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt9L3Ye8vEw
> 
>  
> 
> <3 *


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